


Dusty old Library

by HighSidhe



Series: Random Snippets and Crossovers [3]
Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighSidhe/pseuds/HighSidhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have been an abandoned library. It wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dusty old Library

He had originally thought that the old library was abandoned. It had been listed as such on public record, and given a choice between living there and in some old, abandoned flat with rodents and electrical problems, he had thought the library a better option. If nothing else, it would hopefully have books that he could read. He had expected to find a few people like him, homeless or desperate to get away from something.

Most abandoned buildings were occupied by the dregs of society, after all, and why would New York be any different?

He had not expected it to be genuinely occupied by anyone, although at least for the moment it didn't look as if anyone was home. A series of monitors were all hooked together, though he had been unable to actually get into any of them. 

Alex knew he should have left after realizing that someone had clearly made this place their home, and that they clearly weren't homeless. He knew he should have left well enough alone and slipped away before they inevitably returned. 

Instead, the curious teenager found himself poking around the dusty old place. The books were clearly well-loved and well-read by the inhabitant because only the highest shelves had traces of dust on them, and most wouldn't have bothered.

Stack upon stack of boxes held intimate details of people, enough to make Alex very uncomfortable reading too deeply into any of them. Whoever this person was, they clearly were in a position to uncover quite a bit of information about people, information that normally wouldn't be visible to the average person. 

A shiver wormed its way down his spine as he carefully placed the lid back on the box and backed away. He didn't want to know why they were so concerned about these people, or why they were being stored away in boxes, as if they held no more use to the person in question. It disturbed him on many levels, this in-depth knowledge and casual dismissal of people. 

Alex didn't know what he had stumbled on, but the part of him more rooted in survival was urging him to flee before they returned. 

He most certainly didn't want to be caught here when the owner returned, and yet he couldn't stop himself from continuing to look around.

It was a morbid curiosity, the sort that he just knew would probably end in tears and bloodshed, and possibly him fighting for his life again. 

Neither of which were anything new, but that didn't mean he wanted to. 

Anyone else might have missed the soft thumb of shoes up the stairs, but Alex wasn't just anyone, and he had been in an elevated state of awareness since he had accidentally stumbled into someone's lair. 

Getting taken unaware was not something he especially enjoyed, in spite of how frequently it seemed to happen. Inevitably, at least once during a mission, he would find himself at the terrorists mercy, and it was never a comfortable feeling, even after managing to escape largely unscathed so many times. All it would take was once, and he would be done for.

The quiet steps continued up the stairs and paused at the doorway. As much as he hoped that the resident of the library was unaware that their hidden base had been invaded, the stretching silence seemed to indicate that his presence had been noticed. That was assuming that he hadn't managed to trip some sort of alarm coming in, which he probably had.

Warily Alex toed his sneakers off, as quietly as he could manage. If he was going to play cat and mouse, he was going to be the best damn mouse there was, and he couldn't do that with squeaky shoes. 

No further sound came from the doorway, and Alex realized that he should probably get moving. He had no doubt that if he stayed here, he would be found sooner rather than later. 

He crept between the shelves, keeping as low as possible. If he was found, his relative height could be the difference between being shot and managing to get away as most people tended to have their weapons pointed roughly where they assumed someone's torso would be. They would have to adjust, and that could give him the time to get out of the way if he noticed quickly enough. 

He peered through cracks between the books, trying to catch a glimpse of the person stalking him, and reflected somewhat ruefully that they seemed to be a professional at this. 

One could tell a lot about a person by what they did when trying to scare out someone hiding. Talking gave a general location to the listener, after all, and made it all the easier to hide from them. 

This person clearly knew that, or they weren't much of a talker in the first place. One never really knew which it was until they came face-to-face and he would prefer to avoid that if all possible. 

Given his distance from the doorway and the front entrance, Alex had a feeling that things weren't going to go his way.

The fact that even with his training he had no idea where the other was didn't make him feel any better about the situation. Casting a glance behind him to make sure he wasn't about to get a nasty surprise, he pressed his back against the end of the shelf and cautiously peered around the corner. Eyes darting around, he scurried to the next bookshelf, darting out of view as quickly as possible. 

The feeling of cold metal pressed against the back of his head had him freezing and slowly raising his hands in the universal sign of 'please god don't kill me'. Every muscle in his body tensed in preparation to move if it became necessary, but Alex knew that at this range, the likelihood of him missing was rather slim. 

"Relax, Finch, it's a street kid, nothing dangerous about him unless food is involved." It didn't take much to realize that he was talking to someone else. "Stand up." What little warmth had been in his tone when speaking to the other was gone, and Alex found himself very much afraid of what was going to happen to him. 

"Walk. Try to run or fight and you'll be walking with a limp for the rest of your life." His voice was soft but Alex would have been a fool to think that didn't mean he wasn't capable of hurting him. There was something dark about the way he could act so calm and soft-spoken about hurting people. It put Alex to mind of Yassen Gregorovich.

Obediently he climbed somewhat unsteadily to his feet, his knees aching after spending so much time crouching and crawling. Slowly he did exactly as he had been told, walking slowly forward and making no sudden moves. The prospect of losing his ability to walk properly, and he had little doubt that he would follow through with his threat, was not one he wanted to even consider. 

His first glimpse of the man was after he was directed into a rather comfortable chaired and subsequently tied down. His fearful jerky behaviour was not entirely feigned; he had all the disadvantages in this situation, and even though he couldn't see any weapons on the man, he had no doubt that they were there. 

Still, he remained silent as he watched him pacing around like a caged cat, reminding him of the tiger that Julia Rothman had kept as security. There was definitely something dangerous about him, and something about his mannerisms seemed familiar, though Alex couldn't quite pin down what it was. 

Finally he spoke up, somewhat shakily. "I didn't mean to," He muttered miserably, "I thought it was abandoned." 

"Strangely you're the first to make that mistake." The man observed, regarding him with no small amount of curiosity. 

"I'm new to New York." He answered with a scowl, "Ran away here a couple of months ago, couldn't stand the thought of another goddamn children's home."

His eyebrows raised slightly. "You're an orphan?"

"You're surprised?" He shot back, "Kids with parents don't end up on the street."

"Touche." He agreed with a slight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "So, if you're not from New York.."

"Pennsylvania." He answered immediately, not missing the slight raise of his eyebrows as if he didn't quite believe him.

"You don't have much of an accent." He observed with narrowed eyes.

Alex gave a shrug. "I've been told that before."

He was still staring at him with an unreadable expression when the sound of slightly uneven footsteps alerted him to the fact that someone else had arrived. A moment later another man entered, this one considerably less intimidating than the one hovering over him. His eyebrows shot up as he caught sight of Alex, and he had a rough idea of what he looked like.

He had been living on his own for the past couple of months or so, and his clothes were somewhat ragged looking and threadbare, while his hair was a bit longer than he'd like on top of being greasy from lack of proper washings. Several days worth of growth was also on his face, making him look a little older than he actually was. 

He wrinkled his nose slightly and glanced over at the other man. "I see what you mean."

He smiled grimly at him. "He's pretty decent at sneaking around." He observed.

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "Again, living on the streets." He pointed out, "You'd think you'd remember that."

"Mouthy one isn't he." The second murmured, trying his best not to look amused. 

"You have no idea." The first muttered. 

"Why did you come here?" The newcomer asked, fixing him with a piercing stare. 

He shrugged as much as he could manage, "My last place got overrun by rodents." he lied easily, "It was raining and I needed a place to sleep for a few days. Heard the library here was abandoned so I thought I'd give it a try. I used to like reading, before.." His voice trailed off as his expression closed off. He didn't want to think about Jack or her death. 

"It had been rather dreary of late," The newcomer mused, more to himself. 

"What are we going to do with him, Finch?" Alex could practically hear the undertones in that; there was definitely something that he was implying but wasn't coming out and saying. 

Finch, as he was apparently called, pursed his lips and frowned in thought. "I'm not actually sure. I suppose I could put him up into one of my safe houses.." He sounded doubtful about that.

Neither of them seemed to be paying much attention to Alex in that particular moment, and thus they missed his brow furrowing at the mention of safe houses. Granted, he had already come to the conclusion of this being a lair of some sort, but the idea of them having multiple bases, presumably scattered around the city, did not really sit well with him, especially since he still had no idea who they actually were. 

"So what, you're going to lock me up somewhere?" Alex asked incredulously, "What the hell man? I'm sorry I stumbled in on your batcave, but that's no call for putting me under house arrest." He had not gone to so much trouble to escape MI6 to let someone with delusions of grandeur lock him up somewhere just because he hadn't gone through official records to stake his claim on an old library. 

Alex noted how unsure he was. He was guessing that he really had no idea what to do about him, but it wasn't really him he was worried about. He was far more concerned with tall, dark, and deadly who hadn't offered a suggestion yet. 

"He does have a point, Finch." He murmured quietly. "Someone would have to watch him every second to keep him there, and I'm sure locking him up won't convince him not to talk about everything he's seen here."

Alex did not feel the need to mention that he was holding plenty of secrets for people he loathed. The last thing he wanted was for them to start asking questions. For the moment, they seemed to think that he was a street kid and not much else, and he would like to keep it that way. 

"Could let me go," he offered with a cheeky smirk, hiding the unease he felt at this whole bloody situation. "I'm not even sure what it is you two are doing here that's got your knickers tied in a knot." 

There was a barely noticeable twitch in tall, dark, and dangerous' eyebrow, and it took him a moment to remember that most Americans had a different turn of that saying. Maybe he could get by with claiming to be a fan of Doctor Who. Plenty of Americans liked british shows, after all. 

"Reese, what would you suggest?" Finch frowned, eying him. 

Reese was still eying him. "I think there's a lot more to him than meet's the eye, and I think he's a homeless kid in need of a place to stay." he smirked slightly as he glanced over at Finch. "Besides, you could use the company."

Finch scowled at him, "I am not running an orphanage, John."

"What about it, kid." 

Alex blinked at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared hard at him. He could see that Reese at least suspected that he was anything but ordinary, but he didn't seem to recognize him, so maybe he hadn't been in the intelligence field. 

Alex couldn't help but stare at him in complete bewilderment. He knew America was different from England in a great many respects, but he was fairly certain that adoption processes probably didn't go like this. "Are you serious?" He finally managed with a bemused expression. "You guys are insane. Whatever it is you two think is so important, you're welcome to it. I'll find somewhere less weird to crash."

Or he would have if he was free from the chair. If he were alone, he could probably get out very easily, but as it was, Alex wasn't about to start revealing hands until it was absolutely necessary.

The relief on the older man's face was a little disheartening, even if he did think they were completely nuts.

It wasn't so much that he wanted them in particular to like him; this was entirely too fishy and were he still and agent, he'd probably jump all over the chance to get 'adopted' into whatever operations they were involved with. As it was, he didn't particularly feel like risking his life in a foreign country, at least not unless he was absolutely certain that lives were at risk.

The longer he was around them, the more convinced he became that the smaller man probably didn't condone murder and mayhem, not unless he had a lot of hidden depths that Alex wasn't seeing, and he considered himself a pretty good judge of character. 

All the same, he longed for a family, friends, people who couldn't be hurt by his past, or who couldn't be bought or bribed by governments. He wanted a family that wouldn't stand back and allow him to be used, and as much as he loved Jack dearly, he recognized that her appointment as his housekeeper and guardian wasn't the best situation he could have found himself in because she hadn't been in any sort of position to stand up for him, and it had gotten her killed.

He wasn't even going to get into Ian, who had been grooming him to work for MI6 since he was a toddler. 

"If you would kindly let me go then.." He offered, giving a pointed glance at his wrists and ankles. 

That seemed to bring them back to their senses, unfortunately, with the realization that they were still going to have to do something about him and that they couldn't just turn him loose apparently. 

"We've gone full circle." Reese muttered with amusement.

"Fine," Finch bit out, looking annoyed, "He can stay."

"That's all fine and good, but don't I get a say in this?" Alex asked, starting to feel more than a little uneasy. The last thing he wanted was to get sucked into something else with no say in the matter, though these two would hopefully be easier to hide from than MI6 when he inevitably attempted escape. He couldn't stop his fingers clenching around the armrests of the chair, starkly white against the dull grey of the duct tape keeping him in place.

Finch looked taken aback, a slight frown on his face. "Don't you want to stay? A roof over your head, meals everyday..?"

Alex stared at him with a flat expression. "Not at the cost of my freedom." he answered shortly. "Besides, as he mentioned, you'd have to keep watch over me every second if you try to keep me here against my will." A cheeky grin covered up the roiling mess of emotions building in his stomach. 

It was fast becoming clear that neither of these two really had any idea what to do with him, and they clearly didn't want whatever operation they were involved with getting out, although to whom he couldn't say. Still, the fact that neither had suggested or even implied getting rid of him was somewhat reassuring.

In fact, Reese looked more than a little amused by the entire situation, although he could still see suspicion lurking in his eyes. He would have to be careful about how he acted around him in the future, assuming of course that his future included them in it. 

Finch looked less than pleased, but he had a resigned expression nonetheless. "I suppose we can offer you a home to stay in." He said. "Are you still in school?"

"I'm eighteen." Alex lied immediately.

Reese snorted at that, "He's not that old." He examined him for a long moment, "If I were to guess, I would say he's about sixteen, maybe seventeen."

"I'm older than I look." Alex uttered indignantly.

He raised an eyebrow, "I wasn't going by your appearance," He said mysteriously.

Alex scowled at him. "I dropped out two months ago." He muttered sullenly, not mentioning that his schooling had been sporadic at best over the past two years. "Not that it's any of your business."

Finch sighed. "Let him up. If he wants to stay, he can."

Alex flicked his eyes between the two warily, "And if I don't-?"

He smiled somewhat self-deprecatingly, "I am unable to stop you, and Reese has a job to do."

Huh. He hadn't expected that. Still, he remained suspicious of the two of them; he didn't think they would have gone through so much trouble to decide what to do with him only to let him leave the second he wanted to. Still, he wasn't going to say no to getting the tape of his hands.

He watched warily as Reese produced a knife from nowhere and proceeded to cut away the tape, wincing slightly as the skin of his arms suffered from its removal. Standing up, uncertainly rubbing his wrists, he stared cautiously between the two of them. Finche nudged him out of the way and sniffed at the sticky residue on the seat, and Alex watched in amazement as he proceeded to turn his back on him in favour of waking his monitors up.

"Um," He cleared his throat. "Do you guys have a shower?"

**Author's Note:**

> So, another short little blurb from me. There probably won't be anything added to this. I haven't really given much thought of where it could go from here, but the idea was that Alex needed a place to stay and the library wasn't as abandoned as he thought. Beyond that, surprise me.


End file.
